The Same Creed
by EnigmaticPseudonym
Summary: In 2012, tensions between the Templars and the Assassins have the two factions on the brink of open war. Desperate for any advantage against the Knights, they give the go-ahead for Lucy to liberate their only hope: Desmond Miles. CH.2 Updated. AU-PostAC1
1. Flight

Warning: Language (Since Desmond is very vocal about his feelings) and Violence

Disclaimer: Assassin's Creed is owned by Ubisoft

* * *

**The Same Creed**

By EnigmaticPseudonym

**Flight**

Desmond was bleeding from cuts that covered his face and chest, accompanied by dark bruises that seemed to dot his whole body. His chest still ached from the kick that was delivered to his sternum by his interrogator, a man named Gable. His left eyelid was left bruised, raw, and half open. He spat out blood and chuckled to himself. Apparently, all that water that they submerged his head in didn't do anything to clean out his bloodied mouth or his blood-stained sweatshirt.

His father had spent his whole life trying to avoid the Assassin brotherhood—trying to give his younger brother and sister, and him, a life devoid of killing another human. But his father reluctantly trained them in the arts of evasion, Close-Quarters-Combat (armed or disarmed), and gunplay to prepare them for the inevitable.

Sooner or later the Templar Knights were going to find them. The _Hashshashin_ brotherhood could forget, but _THEY_, the self-righteous Knights, never would as long as you were born an Assassin. They would hunt you down without remorse and without care. That's why their father had trained them against his beliefs.

Gable, the Abstergo building's Chief of Security, held a gun to the bartender's knee. "Will you cooperate? To recover the Pieces of Eden, we need a guide. An Assassin who knows the locations of the remaining few."

Desmond smiled at him and spat on his shoe. "Cooperating is out of the question. Tenet Three: 'Do not compromise the brotherhood.' Turning my brothers and sisters into mindless husks DEFINITELY falls under that category."

Gable growled and smashed his pistol across Desmond's face, followed by a punch to his stomach. He brought the 9-millimeter M9 Beretta up and fired. The bullet grazed Desmond's ear and solicited a gasp from the bartender. Desmond's heart had skipped a beat.

He smiled at the Assassin's discomfort and aimed his pistol at Desmond's knee again. "Lucky for you—I have good aim. Now, before I count to three, you WILL tell me that you will be compliant."

Desmond struggled against the ropes that tied him to the chair. "HELL NO!"

"ONE… Come on Desmond, you're smarter than that…

"TWO… THR…"

The door exploded with calculated force and cut off Gable's countdown. The metal door fell down with a clang and fiber wire around the Templar's throat quickly knocked him out. The unknown attacker picked up the man's pistol and holstered it on her left side.

Desmond's bindings were cut and he was pulled out of his seat and tossed out the door in less than five seconds.

* * *

"_Evac-One, are you ready for pick-up?"_ she asked rather breathlessly.

"_Affirmative, Lima-1. We're en route to your location. ETA: Two minutes. Do you copy?"_

"_Roger, package is secured and we are making our way to the roof. Be advised, I have enemy contacts chasing me on foot."_

"_Affirmative, we're coming in fast and low. Switching to Evacuation Plan B. Good luck."_

"_Thanks. Over and out."_

Desmond blinked to help his eyes adjust to the bright light. He was confused. One second, he was about to be shot in the knee. The next, someone was dragging him down the hallway and up the stairs.

He turned to look at the woman he owed his life to. His eyes immediately scanned his savior. Blond hair tied up in a ponytail. Black long-sleeved wool sweater and cargo pants. Light-weight bullet-proof vest with the Assassin logo painted onto it. Bluetooth earpiece.

"Lucy! What's happening?" he asked. He ducked as a piece of the ceiling fell in front of him. Lights above them popped with fury, adding more deadly projectiles into the foray. Bullets shattered the cement and wallpaper as they slammed themselves wholeheartedly into the environment.

Lucy pulled out Gable's M9 pistol with her left hand and emptied the clip at the guards chasing them. "I told you to have a little faith. This is our way out."

Desmond physically shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Right… What's our objective?"

"Get to the roof via the rooftop atrium. Evacuate the premises. A helo is on its way," Lucy called out. Knowing that Desmond was now fully awake, she dropped his arm. He immediately realized how much of a dead weight he was—she was sprinting two meters ahead of him and was leaving him behind. He picked up his pace and tried to stay half a meter behind her at most, fighting against the pain that resulted from two days worth of beatings.

"Des!" Lucy yelled as she pulled out another pistol. "Take this," she said while she placed a fresh clip in Gable's pistol and shoved it into his hands. "Do you know how to shoot?"

"Yeah, my dad taught me when I was eight." He brought the pistol up and 'triple-tacked' a guard in front of them—two shots to the chest, one to the head. Desmond acquired the next target and did the same. The feeling of regret for taking a life was thrown into the back of his mind. _'Compartmentalization,'_ his father had said, _'can save your life after your first kill.'_ He lowered his weapon, failing to anticipate for another Templar before the hostile popped out from around the corner and fired.

Lucy twisted to the left and dodged the bullet without losing her momentum. She leaped into the air and flew towards the surprised guard. The Templar tried to aim his weapon in defense, but to no avail. Within milliseconds, Lucy cocked her hand backward to release the safety mechanism, jerked her pinky towards her to unsheathe her hidden blade, and plunged it into the neck of the unsuspecting assailant. She only stopped for half a second to secure her blade before breaking into a dead run again.

"MOVE Desmond! We're running out of time!"

The final stretch of their run took them through the atrium on the top floor. Bullets rained down on them as dozens of guards emptied their clips on the fleeing Assassins. Desmond and Lucy fired back, aiming at the thickest concentrations. He turned his head away from the retreating room and focused on the glass doors that separated them from the large balcony.

Desmond and Lucy brought their shoulders forward and shattered the glass as they went flying through. After an impromptu roll, they were both back on their feet and aiming their weapons at the quickly massing group of guards.

Lucy whispered calmly, "Des, move backwards with me and stop only when we're at the railing." She threw a fresh clip at Desmond and watched him catch it and adeptly reload the weapon.

He nodded to tell her that he was ready and waiting. Desmond kept switching targets, adapting to the aggressiveness of each individual guard.

"Desmond, Lucy! Put your guns down! You can't escape," Warren Vidic scowled. The scientist stood in front of the mass of security guards with Gable standing next to him. "This roof is full of guards, has a 70-story drop, and no helicopter. It's time to GIVE UP. You can't win! Not with these odds."

Desmond looked behind him and studied the view of New York from the top of Abstergo building. The lights of the "Big Apple" dwarfed the stars in the sky—almost as if it was a star on its own. They were so high up that the people below him looked smaller than ants. It would have been beautiful, if it wasn't the only obstacle that denied them freedom.

Lucy stood straight up, motioned for Desmond to do the same, and lowered her weapon. "We can't give up when we're so close. I have _faith_ in my brothers," she said as the sounds of the rotor blades of a helicopter increased in volume. "We just have to know when to _leap_."

Desmond's eyes grew wide. He whispered quietly but intensely, "You're kidding!"

She stared into his eyes with stone cold determination.

'_Damn it, she's not!'_

"Just hold on to my arm, Des." She faced the crowd again. "Goodbye, Warren."

Vidic glared at the two Assassins. "Shoot them NOW! Don't let them get away!" By the time the Templar guards had raised their weapons, Desmond and Lucy were already facing away from them at the edge of the roof.

Lucy dove off the roof of the building with Desmond following soon after. The bullets that were fired previous to the jump whistled safely over the Assassins, escaping into the night.

* * *

_TBC…_


	2. Freedom

A/N: Just a short chapter to set up the next.

**Freedom in Exchange for a Promise**

Desmond was surprised at his reaction. He thought he would have screamed all the way down the building—at least, until his head made contact with the pavement below. Instead he felt at peace.

Cars got bigger and bigger, windows flew by at an insane pace, and yet he felt no fear—just freedom. Watching his ancestor jump off of countless minarets all over the 'Kingdom' was exhilarating, but it felt empty. Now he finally understood why Altäir closed his eyes every time he leapt. The wind blowing past his ears drowned out the hustle and bustle of daily life. In mid-air, you had no responsibilities and no worries other than your landing spot.

Desmond was shaken out of his reverie by the rotor blades swinging by uneasily close. Half a second later, he landed painfully in a net that was suspended on the left side of the helicopter. He felt strong arms grasp his arm and pull him onto the cargo deck of the helicopter.

"You alright?" the man asked.

Desmond blinked a few times and looked around the cabin. "Yeah… _Cough_… Yeah, I'm fine. Some cuts and bruises—nothin' major. Where's Lucy?"

"Over here, Des. Safe and sound," yelled Lucy.

Desmond turned to his right and eyed her suspiciously. "You sure?"

"Positive." She smiled at him to ease his anxiety and gave him a thumbs-up. Lucy turned her attention to the pilot. "Package is aboard; get us the hell out of here!"

The pilot nodded and the helicopter lunged forward in agreement.

Lucy allowed her legs to give way in the relative safety of the chopper and plopped down next to Desmond on the bench. As the adrenaline ebbed from her body, she focused her attention on the events that transpired after they leaped. She furrowed her eyebrows in thought. "I thought you'd be more _vocal_ during the fall. Unless… you've done THAT before."

"I'm sorry to disappoint," Desmond replied sarcastically. "But it WAS kind of weird. I used to be scared of heights. Almost punched a Ferris wheel operator because he wouldn't open the door."

"Interesting. Altäir's memories bled out more than I thought. Some of his experiences have settled in your subconscious."

"Really?" Desmond asked, surprised. "So…I can't swim anymore?"

Lucy chuckled. "Des…you are an idiot."

He smiled back, happy to finally be outside. "But seriously… That can happen?"

"Why do you think I made you take breaks so often? I didn't want you to end up with a dual personality."

"Thanks."

"You owe me. The Bureau Chief was just going to leave you behind."

"Then why did you pull me out of there?"

"I said I'd get you out. I tend not to break my promises."

"Could you have done it a *little* earlier?"

She glared at him and punched him in the shoulder.

"Ow. Are you going to do that everytime?!"

She turned to face him, and grinned. "Maybe, maybe not. Go to sleep."

Desmond raised his hands in defeat. "Okay, Luce. Fine."

Lucy moved to the bench across from him and began to take apart and methodically clean her spring-launched hidden blade. _Dad, sis, and Gordy used to do that everyday after training_, he recalled. _If Vidic did anything to them…_ He promised Dad he'd keep them safe, but he left the Brotherhood instead. He'd find his brother and sister wherever Vidic may have taken them—and Vidic would pay.

The helicopter zipped out of the city and descended to a few meters above the water. Desmond sighed deeply and breathed in the cleaner air that hung over the Hudson. He closed his eyes and slept without fear for the first time.

* * *

To Be Continued…


	3. The Deserter

**The Deserter**

Desmond awoke to a dimly lit room. He was seated in a metal chair and his cheek felt cold from contact with the steel table. He sat up straight and began to scan the room he was in.

A one-way mirror stood half a meter off the ground to his left, a metal door was secured tightly a few meters away, and windows were completely absent from the room. Only a single fluorescent light bulb hung from the ceiling, its light casting a rectangular beam of light downwards. _Crap_, he thought, _another interrogation room_. Desmond did notice that he wasn't tied up—meaning whoever held him captive did not have violence in mind.

He quickly summarized last night's events in his head. Lucy freeing him from his cell, a sprint for their lives through the Abstergo building, and a leap of faith off the building and into a helicopter brought him here. He needed to find out who was keeping him captive.

Desmond checked the door once more and noticed a delta shape with a curve for the base. The design was engraved carefully into the door with a greater focus on art rather than security. _Definitely Assassin_, he concluded.

Without warning, the door slid open and a man dressed in a suit entered the room. Successful synchronization with Altäir allowed Desmond to instinctively utilize Eagle-Vision—a technique that combined careful observation, spatial awareness, and behavioral profiling into a single tool. The man was hidden by the shadows, but his movements were stiff and he was circling around Desmond like a vulture. Desmond mentally marked the man as red—a threat—and readied himself for an attack.

"Mister Miles," said a voice from the door. "I can assure you that Ben here is just following protocol and doesn't mean you any harm."

This time, the 'suit' who owned the mysterious voice entered the room and sat down across from him. This man was around 50 and medium in stature. Stubble was visible on his lower jaw and although he shaved his head, less than half a centimeter of hair was still visible and starting to gray. His black eyes were emotionless and unreadable. Desmond relaxed a little and marked the man in front of him as white with a tinge of red—an informant with a hidden agenda.

"Let me introduce myself. My name is Lowes and I am the Bureau Chief of the New England Enclave."

Desmond sat in silence and nodded his head.

"You may be wondering why we're keeping you in this room."

Desmond replied, "Simple. I'm a deserter. I have to be separated from the rest of the brotherhood until you're sure I won't stab you in the back."

It was hard to forget the infamous mile-long list of Assassin rules and procedures.

"I hope you don't take any offense, Mr. Miles. Being driven into hiding by the Templars raised the Brotherhood's paranoia to new heights."

Desmond just sat in silence, carefully observing both people in the room.

"Now, I'm going to skip the chit-chat and tell you why you're here. And I can't stress enough that we need your… _experience_ to tell us the locations of the different _Pieces of Eden_."

"That should be simple. You've got Lucy. Just ask her to retrieve the data. She probably has a copy."

"That's the problem… We have an Animus that doesn't work yet, and the data uses symbols that just don't exist."

Desmond furrowed his eyebrows in skepticism. "No way, those 'symbols' can probably be translated and decoded. Try Latin or Greek."

"True, but think about this. What if the data isn't translatable to any recognized language?" Lowes paused for a short moment before he began again. "What if they developed a method of encryption that substitutes our alphabet for something else?"

"You're saying…They wrote their own language?"

"Or they combined various languages and translated them into unusual symbols—no one can be certain. We can't hack it until we have the actual software or hardware that they used to encrypt it.

"The Templars are just weeks away from finding a _Piece_, and a month from launching their _Eden_ satellite into orbit. When that happens, the whole world is fucked."

Desmond shrugged and leaned back against his chair. "Hell, I'm just a bartender pulled into all of this, what am I supposed to do? They'll find a way. They always do."

"That's why I need you to do something for me. We know we can't access your DNA results, but we can slow their progress," Lowes added.

He started to walk around the table in a circle. "The Templars operate under a leadership comprised of nine individuals, as you probably know.

"Before, they were confined to operate only within Europe and the Middle-East. Now, under the guise of the Abstergo Corporation, their influence can be felt in every continent—particularly within North America and Europe. That's why we were driven underground last month."

"But there are only six habitable continents—that's six individuals. What about the other three?"

"They were placed in Research and Development. One recently died due to old age and the other was successfully taken out by one of ours, leaving Warren Vidic in charge of their R-and-D. Until their next selection process, Vidic's stuck in charge of their operations. We need to stop those bastards and we need the locations of the other _Pieces_. Vidic is the key." Lowes stared into Desmond's eyes. "And you have to retrieve him."

Desmond frowned, "Hell no. You can't make me."

The older man continued without allowing Desmond to respond. "As a deserter of the Creed, you do not exist in our brotherhood. You will be a shadow in the midst of the Templars—and shadows cannot be traced. You evacuate Vidic, you delay the enemy's advancement. Then we find the next step."

Desmond ground his fists and yelled, "Fuck! I'm a bartender! I serve drinks to customers. I try to survive with two meager jobs. I am an honest, working man. I DO NOT kill people!"

"You have no choice!" Lowes responded. "If you don't, everybody loses their FREEDOM. Protecting freedom for the human race IS worth losing our lives for, Desmond."

"Where is all of this trust coming from?" Desmond buried his face in his hands. "How do you even know I can get the job done?"

"Lucy told us you were combat-ready in her debriefing. You just need practice, rest, and food. Your dad was one of our best. Your bloodline was one of our best."

Desmond knew that he had no way out—if he disagreed, he would be thrown out on the streets and Vidic would get his greedy hands on him. Desmond would rather die in combat than be tortured to death. He had no need to vocalize his decision—Lowes had already anticipated his reaction, he was sure.

Lowes placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and placed a piece of paper and a PDA on the table. "Here are the directions to your housing and a map of the compound. Your training will be an accelerated format of the one we provide now. Lucy was one of our best; she will be your mentor. Get some rest—you've got a long week ahead of you."

* * *

To Be Continued…


End file.
